The Perfect Lie
by fanficangel513
Summary: We were flawless, beautiful, perfect, amazing. We were the quintessence of glory. And yet we were living a lie. I had yet to find out that who I was was not who I wanted to be, and it would take a special man to break me out of my shell.
1. Chapter 1: Perfect

**Disclaimer:** Of course I don't own Harry Potter! If I did, I wouldn't even be righting this fanfiction story!

**Chapter 1: Perfect**

Lily's POV

I stared at myself in the mirror, scrutinizing my appearance. The bright, almond-shaped emerald eyes; the rich, dark red hair, glowing like fire; and the pale and flawless skin with just a sprinkle of freckles across the nose. I was beautiful. I was strong. I was perfect. I could do anything and everything.

I lived in a decent house in a small town in London, England. My family consisted of my mother, Victoria Evans, my father, John Evans, my older sister, Petunia Sandra Evans, and me, Lillian Victoria Evans. My gorgeous mother was an artist, and an amazing one at that. When she drew, she drew from her heart and from her soul, paintings with vibrant colors, bold, dark, majestic, and mysterious. She taught me everything that I needed to know. She was my mother, my best friend, my counselor, and my tutor.

My dad was….nobody. He spent his nights bouncing from bar to bar, sleeping with every woman he could get his hands on. When I found out just exactly the kind of person my dad was, I was shocked beyond belief. How could he cheat on someone who was as wonderful as my mother was? My mother, who has an uncanny way of finding out everything, knew what was going on. And yet, she didn't do anything. I asked her why, one day, and she simply said, "When the time comes, my flower, the gods will punish your father, and justly so." I was ten at the time and did not completely understand what my mother had said. I did not know, at the time, that eventually, we would be one short a family member.

My older sister was beautiful, too. She had my dad's snowy white blonde hair, which flowed gracefully down to her waist. Her big eyes were the bluest I had ever seen, like sapphires, and her skin had a lovely bronze tan too it, like that of a swimsuit model. She was 19 years old, just four years older than I was. She attended Oxford University, a very prestigious university in England. In fact, it was one of the best, and as always, my family always gets the best. Petunia was studying to become a poet, just like my mother wanted her to be. "You have a wonderful talent, my dear," my mother had said one night two years ago in that sweet, lulling voice of hers. "You can paint wonderful pictures with just a pencil in your hand and a notebook in your lap. This is your calling, Pet. Now go for it." And as always, my sister obeyed her. My sister had published three poems during her first year of college, each one selling in the millions, making my sister one of the most beloved new poets in London, England.

And I…I was me, a beautiful young woman of fifteen, and an aspiring artist. I was taught, by my mother of course, to hate everyone except your family. Never trust anyone except yourself and your family. Never make any friends, for they will only end up stabbing you in the back. Everyone was a liar and everyone was a cheater. The world was innately bad and only the Evans (minus my father) were the superior ones, the good ones, the flawless ones. And so, I had no friends except my mother and my sister. I drowned myself in schoolwork, my mother's teachings, and my artwork. I drowned myself in beauty and in perfection.

AN: I hoped you like the first chapter of my story. It's short, I know, but the other ones will be longer. Please read and review.


	2. Chatper 2: Outsider

By the way, the whole story is from Lily's point of view, but in a few chapters, I may switch it up to be James's point of view. Also, after watching the trailer for the movie, White Oleander, I did get the idea for this story. However, I am not looking to make a Harry Potter remake of it. Heck, I didn't even watch the entire movie.

**

* * *

**

I was standing at the train station in my black, knee-length leather skirt and black and white striped blouse. Looking up at my mother, I smiled at her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Bye, Mother. See you during Christmas break. Bye, Petunia. Have a wonderful time at college this year," I said, giving each of them a hug.

"Bye, Lily," said my mother and Petunia.

Turning away from them, I clutched my trolley and raced through the brick wall that would lead me to Platform 9 and ¾. As soon as my feet touched the platform, I walked briskly to the train, found a compartment, and plopped down onto the seat. Immediately, I protruded a sketch pad from my suitcase and began working on my art. However, I had barely started sketching when I was interrupted by four mangy mutts. They called themselves the Marauders, world-renowned pranksters, as did the rest of the school. I called them utterly pathetic.

The Marauders consisted of the leader, James Potter, his surrogate brother, Sirius Black, his best friend, Remus Lupin, and his other friend Peter Pettigrew. Potter and Black were the two most obnoxious, annoying, and arrogant people on the face of the Earth. Lupin was actually nothing like them. He was extremely smart, gentlemanly, and dignified. He was the one who planned out most of the pranks. Pettigrew was….well, just Pettigrew. He was slightly overweight, slightly stupid, slightly clumsy, and slightly inept at basically everything.

"Well, well, well," Potter said, smirking at me. I did not bother to look up at him, but continued on my drawing. "If it isn't the queen of bitches, Miss Lily Evans. Oh, what is this that you're drawing?"

He reached out to grab the sketch pad, but I was too quick for him. Closing it, I stuffed it back in my suitcase and glared defiantly back at him, my arms crossed. Smirking, he eyed me up and down, grinning approvingly at my attire.

"What do you and your cronies want, Potter?" I asked loudly, distracting him from my body. I was just eye candy to him. He would _never_ get me. Of that, I was one hundred percent sure.

Smirking, Black stepped up. "Nothing at all, Evans. Is it a crime to check up on a "beloved" classmate," he said, sarcasm dripping off of his words.

"Not a crime at all, Black…that is, if I really was a beloved classmate of yours, which surely, I am not, am I? So you mutts can just leave me alone."

"You hear that, guys? Lily just wants to be left alone," Lupin said, making for the door, but instantly, he was pulled back in.

Looking towards the tall, lanky boy, I said, "Thank you, Lupin."

Smiling politely at me, he nodded his head. "It's no problem, Lily. Now come on, guys, before you rile her up to the point of no return."

Grinning, Potter turned to Lupin. "But that is _exactly_ why we're here, Moony," he said. "You know, they say that redheads have quite a temper. And yet…I have only seen you get _really_ mad, like, I don't know, three or four times. Tell me, how _do_ you keep your temper, Evans. Surely, you must be itching to choke us to death, right?"

"Well, yes, actually, I am itching to choke you guys to death," I replied simply. "And I could do it right now if you wanted me to. Tell me, do you?" I said, inching closer to them. "Do you?"

Instantly, the foursome backed away. I could see that they were one less a member because Pettigrew had already dashed out of the compartment. _Smart choice, bud_, I thought.

"Woah, there, Evans, come down. No, we do not want you to choke us to death. Not at all," Black said.

"Then you'd leave me alone," I said clearly. I sat back down and took out my sketch pad again, continuing on my drawing. Pausing in my work, I looked up to see them standing there, an evil grin plastered on their faces. Before I could realize what was going on, they had thrown something on the floor and darted out of the compartment. Soon, an awful stench filled the compartment. _A dung bomb,_ I thought spitefully. Quickly, I gathered my things and ran out, not wanting to be surrounded by the putrid smell.

I quickly spotted those idiots closing a compartment door behind them, not too far away. Walking swiftly, I reached the compartment just in time. Slamming it open, I glared at the lot of them.

"A dung bomb?" I asked in a dangerously low whisper. "A _dung bomb_?"

"Lily!" Remus exclaimed, looking at the badge on my chest. Damn him from interrupting my tirade. "I had no idea you were prefect. I guess I didn't realize back there that you were wearing your badge. Ha ha, funny, huh?" He said nervously. "So, the meeting is going to start in a couple of minutes. How about we go to the Heads compartment and get settled, shall we?" Lupin made for the door but I put my arm out, preventing him from going nowhere.

"We'll go when I'm good and ready," I said in a ringing voice. "Now sit down and listen."

"Come on, Lily, it was nothing harmful, James and Sirius were just having some fun, now let's—" His voice trailed off when he saw the look of death that I was giving him. It was enough to kill even the toughest of the tough.

"Here it comes, Padfoot," Potter said gleefully. He was just dying to see me explode.

"Now, listen, all of you. If you pull a stunt like that again, I will not hesitate to take points off and land you in detention. Furthermore, I won't hesitate to decapitate _any_ of your body parts."

"Oooh, ouch Evans, that hurt. That _really_ hurt," Potter said mockingly. "Better watch out, Pads, or you might not be able to have babies."

Laughing, Black responded, "Yeah, we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?"

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention to Lupin. "Come, Lupin, let's go to the meeting."

Sighing heavily, he stood up and followed me out, but not before giving his friends a helpless look, to which they responded with a grin and a wink. _Imbeciles_, I thought. We finally arrived to the compartment, situated at the front of the train and were greeted warmly by the head boy, Bradley Stradford of Gryffindor and the head girl, Alicia Kenneth of Ravenclaw. Stradford was also the Quidditch captain with a wonderful body and guns of steel, and Kenneth was the nicest, prettiest, most popular girl in school, at least according to everyone else.

Lupin and I were the first two people to enter the compartment, and soon the compartment started piling up with the prefects from the other houses. From Ravenclaw came Ryan Hansley and Natalie Smith a.k.a Mr. and Mrs. Smartaleck. The Slytherin prefects were Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black. Before I go on, let me tell you that these two people (if you can even call them that) are the rudest, filthiest, most disgusting creatures in the world…next to the Potter and Black, of course. In fact, mostly all Slytherins are. They have no respect and are incredibly hostile to anybody who is not of pureblood status. And lastly, the prefects of Hufflepuff were Howard Laws and Leslie Matthews.

Okay, so you might be wondering why I don't slightly agree with the Slytherins, being that I don't have any friends and that I can sometimes be a cold bitch to anyone who gets in my way. First of all, I am muggle born myself. Do I wish I was born pureblood? No, not at all. That would mean that I'd be ashamed of myself, and there is no way in hell that that would happen. Secondly, I _choose_ not to have any friends. I could be the sweetest person in the world if I wanted to, but having friends is a waste of my time. So, to answer your question, I wholeheartedly support the cause of beating Voldemort (or Mr. Yes-let-all-purebloods-join-hands-and-kill-off-anybody-who-is-not-pureblood) and his followers (a.k.a Death Eaters). Would I sacrifice my life for a muggle born or half-blood who was getting tortured or killed? Um, heck no. My life is more important, thank you very much. I would, however, sacrifice my life for my mother or sister. Of that, I am certain.

So Stradford and Kenneth began talking about the rules and responsibilities, but I already knew all that junk. We were allowed to give detentions and take away points or give points, which is neat. We had to patrol the corridors during the nights to see who was sneaking out past curfew…and a whole bunch of other stuff.

"Are there any questions?" Stradford asked, looking around. When nobody raised their hands, he nodded his head, "Okay, well then, you may go back to your compartments."

I was the first one out and immediately ran back to the compartment that Potter, Black, and Pettigrew were in. I stumbled upon them opening my suitcase and taking out my sketch pad. Apparently, the bloody assholes got through my locking charms.

"Potter! Black! Pettigrew!" I said abruptly, causing them to drop the sketch pad in shock. "What in the world do you think you're doing?" I asked, icily, picking up my precious notebook and placing it back into my suitcase.

"Well, you see, Evans," Black said. "We were trying to look at your drawings before you rudely interrupted us. Didn't your mother teach you any manners, Evans?"

Clenching my fists, I gritted my teeth. "You do not deserve to speak about my mother that way," I hissed nastily.

"Oooo, touchy, touchy," Potter said, laughing.

_A waste of my time_, I thought simply. Turning around, I headed out of the compartment, my belongings with me. Upon reaching my compartment, I was thankful that that the smell had worn off, if not completely. I took out my wand and performed numerous spells, which only helped a little in refreshing the room. Sighing, I took out a bottle of spray and sprayed the compartment several times until it smelled of lilacs. Breathing in the scent, I sat down and stared out the window at the rolling hills and swaying trees that passed by. In just five or ten minutes we would be at Hogwarts, so drawing would have to wait. I extracted my robes and proceeded to put them on.

* * *

"Welcome," Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, said, "to another wonderful year at Hogwarts. I know that some of you," he paused, looking pointedly at Black, Potter, and Pettigrew, "are dying to dig in to this delicious meal, so eating first, announcements later." Dumbledore was a very old man with half-moon glasses perched on his hooked nose. He was very wise, noble, and terribly intelligent. And did I mention that he was a tad bit nutty? _Just _a tad bit.

I paused a moment, taking in my surroundings. Everybody was happily chatting with each other, catching up on summer vacation and what they were going to do this year. Everybody had friends…except me, of course. My mother always told me that having friends is useless. All they are there for is to make you laugh and comfort you when you are crying. I didn't need anyone except my mother and my sister to make me laugh. And as for crying…the Evanses never cried. Crying was for weaklings, and we were the essence of strength and power. Friends would not help you reach your full potential or your goals, as my mother told me. It was lonely at the top, and I was at the top. I was friendless, and I did not care in the least. It was better this way. I trusted no one.

* * *

Silently, I trudged upstairs to the fifth year common room. My belongings stood there neatly beside the bed nearest to the window. I had claimed that bed, in first year, to be my own. At night, I always loved staying awake to watch the bright white moon in the dark blue night sky until I feel asleep. And in the morning, the glorious orange-red sun caused me to be the first one awake, which I always enjoyed. 

Turning around, I saw my fellow roommates entering, still chatting away with each other as they unpacked their stuff and climbed into bed. Everybody, but me, said good night to each other, but me. I was usually ignored…yet I was very well-known in the school. I laugh at the irony of that. Closing my eyes, I repeated in my head my mother's sayings.

We are perfect.

We are flawless.

We are beautiful.

We are shameless.

We are superior.

We are…._everything_.


	3. Chapter 3: Thoughts of the Marauders

**Chapter 3: Thoughts of the Marauders**

_**James Harold Potter:**_

_I know I should be grateful. I really should. It would be wrong of me not to. My parents, Harold James Potter and Barbara Michelle Potter, are two of the greatest aurors in the wizarding world. In fact, they're so good that they spend half their time on missions, catching Death Eaters and saving lives. And it warms my heart to see just one more Death Eater captured and just one more life saved. It makes me proud to say that my parents accomplished that. But a part of me feels frustrated that they can't spend more time at home with their only son and his best friend. (Sirius actually just moved in with us this past summer so, technically, he doesn't know much yet. He realizes that my parents are away a lot, but he's so thankful that they've accepted him that he never says anything.) Whenever my parents are out on a mission, it feels as if the house has gotten gloomier and there is a sense of dread. Will they make it? They make it every time, but there's always a chance…And it feels so lonely in the house without them there. Before Sirius came along, I used to feel so depressed and I used to wish that they'd just give up one mission to spend time with me. With Sirius here, the mood is definitely a bit more lightened and a bit more cheerful. He knows how to make me laugh, and I'm thankful for his company, but sometimes, it's not enough. He doesn't know our holiday traditions or birthday traditions. All those traditions that we've celebrated year upon year…all those traditions are slowly fading away. I love my parents to death…and yet, I hate them, too. It makes me sick to my stomach when I think that, but it's the truth. _

_**Sirius Orion Black:**_

_Still, I hear voices yelling, I feel the effect of curses, I feel the hands slapping and the fists punching and the legs kicking. I remember it like it was only yesterday, how furious my parents (if you could even call them that) were when I told them I got put into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, how furious they were when I blatantly told them that I was friends with some muggle-borns. "MUDBLOODS!" They screeched, "Foul, pathetic creatures." I can still remember the hatred in their eyes that one of their sons would betray them like that. Off to the side, I could hear my younger brother, Regulus, snorting as he shook his head in shame. My brother. The perfect image of a Black, proud, noble, a muggle-born hater, eagerly following in the footsteps of his parents, in the footsteps of Voldemort. Year by year, I remember how the treatment and the punishment became far worse. Confinement. Starvation. Beatings. Confinement. Starvation. Beatings. This was what I had to go through…all because I wasn't a pure "Black." That's what I had to go through every single day for the past three and a half summers. But not anymore. No, not anymore. I was fed up with their sick, twisted minds and their sick, twisted ideas of punishment. I was fed up with their close-mindedness. It was amazing, it was liberating. How I punched and kicked and bit my dad before he even had the chance to curse me. It was amazing how I raced out of that prison with nothing but a suitcase of my wizarding belongings and my wand. It was amazing how with each step in the stormy weather, with the cold rain pounding on my back, my heart felt better. I ran and kept running and running. And now…I live in the Potter mansion (well, right now I'm at Hogwarts, but you know what I mean). The Potters…Gosh, they're amazing. They treat me like their own son and I'm so incredibly grateful to be with them. Finally, I know I've found my true family._

_**Remus John Lupin:**_

_A growl erupts from my throat as I feel my shirt and pants tearing in half slowly. My hands, my feet, my face, my limbs, my whole body…everything is changing. It is a painful process, but I am forced to go through it. Soon, I am covered with hair. I lift up my long snout as I sniff the air, looking warily at my surroundings with big, yellow eyes. I claw at the ground, wondering, hoping, for an innocent human to walk by so I can tear them apart and eat them up. I've become…a monster. And it all started when I got bit by Fenrir Greyback, a horrible, vicious werewolf who, even in human form, still welcomes his werewolf instincts. I always wonder what mistake I made, what sin I committed for this horrible fate to have been bestowed upon me. Was it because I was too curious as a child, wandering into the woods without anyone? Was it just coincidence? Was I _meant_ to be a werewolf. When I expressed these thoughts to James, he hit me on the head, telling me that no one is ever meant to be a werewolf. It just happens, and it's not their fault. My friends, my wonderful friends, James, Sirius, and Peter, are the best friends I could have ever asked for. They don't care that I'm a werewolf. James simply calls it my "furry little problem." I am convinced otherwise. The fact that I am werewolf is a danger and a hindrance. No one would ever want to go out with a werewolf. It's sick and scary. No one would want to hire a werewolf for a job. It's hazardous and dangerous. I cling to the friendship that I have with James, Sirius, and Peter. They are all that I have, and they are all that I will ever have. Without them, I am nothing…I am nobody._

_**Peter Pettigrew:**_

_Overweight…clumsy…stupid…un-athletic…unpopular. So many words to describe me. Yet, none of them are good. None of them make me shine. The only thing that makes me shine is the fact that I am part of the Marauders. I adore and respect my friends, but I feel underappreciated. I am doing below average in classes and nobody ever gives me credit for being involved in our pranks. Why in the world do I have to be like this? Why can't I be more like my dad, a well-known and famous healer, or more like my mother, a beautiful, kind teacher? My parents treat me with love and care and they shower me with affection, put me in a pedestal. But I wish I could be like that in school. I want to be superior. I want to be on top. I want to be known. I want to be famous. I don't want to be the tag-along Marauder. I want to be somebody. _


	4. Chapter 4: The Meaning of Friendship

AN: Truth be told, that last chapter was really filler. I had no idea what to put and I was so tired, so I was like, oh hey, let me say something about the Marauder's pasts and thoughts. I know that wasn't exactly the best, so I'm sorry if it was not up to par.

**Chapter 4: The Meaning of Friendship**

_Flashback:_

_Rain. Those cold, fat drops fell from the sky viciously, bringing with them a dastardly wind. Shivering, I wrapped my impermeable raincoat around me, tightening the hood so as not to ruin my precious hair. Breathing in the scent of the wet earth and the acidic smell of rain, I put out my arms, spreading out my fingers. One by one, I caught the rain drops on my palms, and they slid down, falling to the grass below. My hands glistened with wetness and I brought them up to my face, rubbing them all over. I lifted my head back and closed my eyes, letting the drops fall over my eyelids, my nose, my mouth, my cheeks. _

_The rain will cleanse up the world. It will wash away any impurities that exist. Go on out, my little one, and just stand there. Hold your arms out and lift your head back and close your eyes. Feel the rain washing over you. Feel your spirits and your power lift. Feel your perfection and your beauty rise to a whole new level. Feel it within you. Just feel it. _

_End Flashback_

* * *

The first day of Hogwarts was always hectic. Down at the Great Hall, students chattered loudly as they compared their time tables, hoping that their friends would be in their elective classes. Silverware and cutlery clanked loudly as students enjoyed a wide assortment of breakfast items. 

Looking at my own time tale, I smiled with pride and satisfaction. Apart from taking the standard, required subjects (Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfiguration), I was also taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Muggle Studies, three of the hardest elective courses.

Wanting to be the first one in class, I quickly finished my meal, gathered by books, and headed to my first class, Transfiguration. I was happy to see that I was indeed the first one there. Choosing a seat in the front of the class, I sat down and busied myself with browsing through my Transfiguration textbook. Just a few seconds later, Professor McGonagall walked in, acknowledging my presence with a smile, a nod, and a 'How are you, Miss Evans?'

"Fine, thank you, Professor," I smiled back at her, and then continued on with my reading. I wasn't a suck-up. I wasn't the class clown. I didn't slack off. I just did what I had to do to be on top. It was as simple as that.

"Good morning, class," McGonagall said after all the students, except two (take a guess), had sat down in their chairs. "Welcome to your first day of your fifth year of transfiguration. Now, this year, you will be taking a very—"

"Minnie, baby, how's it going, darling?" Black's voice rang out as Potter and he stumbled into the classroom, waving at their peers.

"Looking as young as ever, my dear," Potter said, winking at her.

McGonagall stood there, her nose flaring, eyes wide, her foot tapping repeatedly on the ground. Over at the side, I saw Lupin sinking lower and lower, caught between a look of amusement and shame. Pettigrew just looked at them in awe and reverence. Calmly, Dumb and Dumber strolled to the two empty seats at the back of the class, but not before grinning and waving at Lupin, who simply rolled his eyes and turned around to the front of the class.

"Detention. My office. 7 o'clock tonight." And with that, McGonagall continued with her talking.

"As I was saying before, you all will be taking a very important exam. The O.W.L.S. Ordinary Wizarding Levels. It is _very, very, very_ important that you pass these assessments, and in order to so, you will have to study hard, reviewing and practicing all that you have learned throughout the years. Everything you will learn in all your classes will not only prepare you for future years, but more importantly, for the O.W.L.S. Now, please take out a paper and your quill and begin writing these notes down."

The board, which had previously been blank, suddenly filled up with writing from a wave of McGonagall's wand. Eagerly, all of us, or at least most of us, took out our notebooks, and jotted down the notes that were on the board, which explained what we should expect this year in Transfiguration and what we should concentrate on for the O.W.L.S.

"Sorry, Minnie, but I can't see the board properly. Could you write it down for me? Thanks."

"Potter, I know you can see. You're just being lazy. And if you _and Mr. Black_ don't get out a paper and a quill and write this down, I will _not_ hesitate to take away both of your Quidditch privileges.

If it was one thing that would get Potter and Black to work, it was Quidditch. Gasping, they immediately took out the required supplies and started scribbling furiously.

* * *

The rest of the day was pretty much the same. Talking about O.W.L.S., and righting notes. The bell signaling the end of the last class had rung and all the students were rushing down to the Great Hall for dinner. Not wanting to be taken by the crowd, I decided to go to the Common Room to put all my belongings away. Upon reaching the Girl's Dormitory I could hear, soft, but distinct whispering, on the other side. _I thought it was going to be empty_, I said to myself, frowning. Nonetheless, I opened the door and crossed the room, ignoring the other girls, some staring, some giggling, some sneering, and placed my books carefully into my suitcase. 

I could hear the pitter patter of the rain. It was still falling. I carefully pushed aside one of the curtains. The gentle, lulling sound was like music to my ears. Breathing in deeply, I closed my eyes as I pictured myself out in the rain.

"This isn't for fun, Lily, dear," my mother had told me. "It's to cleanse and purify your inner self, and you can only do that naturally, like this, out in the rain."

It was never for fun. None of it was. Drawing was to get a good career and make money. Eating and drinking was for a long life. Exercising was for a strong life. Going to Hogwarts was to learn how to become someone that would stand out and not blend in with the crowd. Everything I did had a purpose in life. There was no time for leisurely activities. There was no time for fun. Fun was such a…an unrecognizable, alien word to me.

_And I'm content with that,'_ I thought. _I sure am…_

* * *

"Evans!" a voice called out as I was about to go downstairs for dinner 

Turning around, I looked at Potter, an unfeeling stare on my face. "What do you want?"

"What, can't I walk with you to dinner, Miss Ice Queen? Or am I too beneath you to do that?" he said.

"Where's your posse, Potter?"

"Sirius and Peter are at dinner. They went there straight away. Remus is still up in the dormitory."

"And you thought that you'd suddenly become my friend by walking me down to dinner?"

"Your friend?" Potter laughed heartily. "Your _friend?_ You're really something, you know that, Evans. Thinking that other people actually want to spend time with you."

"I don't think that, Potter. I know that nobody wants to be friends with me. I like it that way, if you haven't realized."

Potter looked at me, his eyes wide, as if what I just said had struck him dumb. "You like what which way? Woman, are you crazy? There is not a single person in this world who does not want to have at least one friend. And you, you're content with having none? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Wrong, Potter? You assume that just because I don't want friends that something is wrong with me?" I pondered over that for a while. What was wrong with not wanting friends?

"You think that everyone, even the wealthiest and most powerful person in the world is inferior to you. I bet you even think Dumbledore is inferior to you. That's why you don't want any friends. It's always lonely at the top, isn't it?" He laughed at me. "You, Evans, are a closed-minded, cold-hearted bitch."

"Potter, you may be right about that. But let me ask you something. What is—"

Potter gasped, feigning shock. "Evans, not knowing the answer to something? My, this is most intriguing."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring his statement. "What's the use in having friends, Potter? Really, how does it help you become successful in life?"

Potter's mouth dropped open as he stared at me as if I'd sprouted an extra head, a hideous, deformed head at that. "What's the _use_ in having friends? What's the _use?_ You are…completely unbelievable. Who the hell wants to be lonely in this world? Friends are there to help you get through tough times. If you've gotten dumped, they're there for you. If one of your family members died, they're there for you. If you've gotten beaten up or bullied, they're there for you. They're there to cheer you up and make you laugh again. They're there to support you every step of the way. And this, this is really simple. How in the _hell_ can you have any fun without any friends?"

There was that word again. Fun. It baffled me. What was fun? Why did people want to have fun? I looked at him, that same unfeeling stare etched on my face as my mind became a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Evans, let _me_ ask _you _something. Why do you choose not to have friends?"

I raised an eyebrow. That was easy. "Can friends help you fulfill your dreams? Can friends help you reach your goals? Can friends help you become successful and wealthy? Yeah, you've got someone to lean on when you're lonely or sad. So what? How is that going to help you in life?"

When Potter responded, it was as if he was speaking to a dumb, slow person. The nerve of him! "Did you not understand a word I just told you? Of course friends can help you in all that. Maybe they won't be able to directly get you a job, but they can be there for moral support, and that can make a huge difference."

"Moral support?" I sneered. "Is a pat on the back going to get you an O on the next test? Is a friendly hug going to guarantee you a career?"

"Maybe not, but moral support can make someone's day just a little bit brighter, a little bit more hopeful."

"Brightness. Hope. Friendship. Fun. Who needs it? Who needs any of it? The purpose of life is to become wealthy and successful and beautiful, and to be healthy and strong. What else is there to life?"

Again with the stupendously shocked stare. "Evans, if you simply can't and don't understand the true meaning of life, then you do not deserve to live." Potter shook his head and turned away from me, walking downstairs to the Great Hall.

I stared after him, a bewildered look on my face. What the hell just happened? Try as I might, I could not ignore the unfamiliar feeling of being confused, nor could I ignore the unfamiliar feeling of having so many questions flowing through my head about a topic that I simply could not grasp.

For the first time in my life, I, Lillian Victoria Evans, was struck dumb by James Potter.

* * *

AN: Please, please, please read and review. 


	5. Chapter 5: Tutor Ice Queen

**Chapter 5: Tutor Ice Queen**

James POV

D. A big, fat red D glared at me from my exam paper. Goddamn Charms! Goddamn this stupid, idiotic, worthless, shitty subject!

_Mr. Potter_

_Please see me after class_

_Professor Flitwick_

I glared back at my paper, hoping to burn a hole through it, burn it into oblivion. The lowest grade I had ever got in this class was a P…never a D. And now…oh, curse Charms!

Peter took one look at my paper and let out a gasp. "I got a P on that exam! Funny, huh?" Peter said, smiling cheekily at me.

"Not funny enough," I spat out through clenched teeth. Immediately, he sank low in his seat, stifling a chuckle.

Sirius took one look at my D and the note, and let out a long, slow, whistle. "Well then, tough luck, mate." He laughed, patting my back, while I narrowed my eyes at him.

"He's probably just going to assign you a tutor," Remus said thoughtfully, scrutinizing my paper, which bled red-inked marks and comments, frowning a bit. There was more red on the paper than there was white and black.

"A tutor?" I asked. "What tutor?" I snatched the paper back, shoving it into my bag, not wanting to look at it any longer.

"Maybe it will be a hot one," Sirius said, his eyes glazing over with a dreamy look. "Who do we know whose hot, whose damn good at charms."

"Lily Evans is actually…" Peter started, but Sirius and I stopped him with a bewildered look.

"Evans?! Wormtail, don't even go there. I admit, she's hot, but I'd rather fall of a cliff than have her tutor me." I shuddered at the thought.

The bell rung, signaling the end of class. Padfoot, Wormtail, and Moony all gave me sympathetic looks while leaving class. After the room was empty, I presented my paper to Flitwick and sat there, silent, wondering what he would tell me. I could take the worst. I was strong. After all, I _was_ James Potter.

"Mr. Potter," Flitwick began, standing on top of his desk to look taller, "how would _you_ say your performance has been in this class?" He asked, pacing slowly on top of the wooden table, hands clasped behind his back. His blue, velvet robe dragged across the table, making a rather annoying sound.

"Um…well, I uhh…I think I've done _fairly_ well. I admit I have had some low times, but other than that…" I trailed off, twiddling my thumbs. I could feel Flitwick's scrutinizing stare, and so I became very interested in the beautiful scenery outside the window: the clear blue sky with puffy, white clouds, the radiant orange sun just peaking out from the clouds, its scattered rays hitting the rich, green glass, the cool, light swaying of the trees. It was a gorgeous day to be outside, absolutely lovely….now I was getting depressed thinking of how I could be outside during what was supposed to be my free period, but now ended up being this lecture.

"Mr. Potter, I am not going to stall, so I will cut right to the chase. Your performance on your exams throughout the years has steadily decreased, and your grade on this exam has proved to be that if you do not get help, you will eventually, and I am sorry to say this, hit rock bottom. Now, I know it's only been one week since the start of the school year, and surely you are thinking that you need more time. However, I believe that the earlier you start, the better it will be. I am going to assign you a tutor, however, I will not tell you until tonight. Please come to my office at 7 o'clock sharp."

Sighing with resignation, I nodded. "Yes, Professor Flitwick."

"Very well then," he said, "you may go now."

Gathering my belongings, I rushed out of the classroom, down the stairs and out the front doors. I spotted my three friends under the shade of the large oak tree, and half-ran, half-walked over there. I dropped to the ground, shaking myself of my bag. I breathed in the fresh air and felt the cool air wrap around me, cradling me from the heat and exhaustion of schoolwork.

"So?" Remus said, prompting me for details.

"He's assigning me a tutor, but he's not going to tell me till tonight at 7."

"Now," Sirius said with dramatic air, "you will have to wait so many long, painful hours, my friend. Can you bear it?"

"I don't know, Sirius," I said, playing along, clutching his sleeve. "Four agonizing hours! Oh, what will I do? How will I live?" Silence ensued as Sirius and I stared at each other for a few minutes, then, burst out laughing, rolling around in laughter. Ah, the good days. Carefree, playful days. Sigh. _We must cherish times like these forever_, I thought. Ah, how sappy and corny did I sound just then?

_

* * *

__7 o'clock p.m., Flitwick's office_

A pale, smooth face with almond-shaped emerald eyes and a head of thick, red hair was seated comfortably in one of the chairs across from Flitwick's desk. Oh…crap. When I said I could take the worst, I didn't mean this. This was worse than the worst. This was….life in death.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Flitwick smiled. "Please, take a seat."

Ice Queen turned around and looked at me, raised an eyebrow coolly, and turned back around again. Playing it cool, I leisurely walked to my seat and slouched in it, my face rearranged to form a careless smirk.

"Mr. Potter," Flitwick said pointedly, ignoring my 'I-could-care-less-who's-my-tutor-be-it-Ice-Bitch-or-anyone-else-so-screw-this-thing' posture. "Miss Evans is the best student in Charms that I have had in a long time and I believe that she will be of _tremendous_ help to you. I will not assign you a tutoring schedule, for I think you are old enough to do it yourselves. I suggest that you meet at least twice a week. That is all, now. You are dismissed," he said.

Robotically, I got up out of the chair and exited his office, my mind a blur of thoughts. Evans? Lily Evans? _My_ tutor? Two times a week? Evans?

"Potter!" Evans called out from behind me. "Listen…I know we both can't stand the sight of each other. So forget what Flitwick said. Let's just meet once a week. I can work miracles on you in just one tutoring session. When are you available?"

Still in shock, I answered, "Tuesday" mechanically and blindly made my way to the Gryffindor dormitory.

Immediately upon reaching the boy's dormitory, I was bombarded with questions from Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail. Groaning, I covered my ears and fell onto my warm bed, sighing heavily.

"Are you going to tell us who's tutoring you or do I have to beat it out of you?" Padfoot asked impatiently.

"Evans," I whispered hoarsely. "Lily Evans." And immediately, the full realization hit me like an ice cold avalanche. NO EFFING WAY! Oh, this was not good, not good at all! How the hell did Flitwick expect me to even be _near _her? Wasn't it just a week ago that we exchanged a war of words, a heated argument if you may, which I so rightfully won? Wasn't it just a week ago that I found out just how cruel, cold, and heartless she really was? And now, I had to learn from her?

A mixture of reactions pounded against me almost instantly.

"Sorry, James. We all know she can be bitchy," Moony said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "But…she can help you improve, you know."

Padfoot simply laughed, just laughed and kept laughing. Bloody idiot. I smacked him upside the head and he immediately ceased, wincing and rubbing his head. Serves him right.

"That's horrible!" Wormtail cried out.

"Yep, and get this, guys, Evans is okay with it. She didn't make a fuss at all. She just asked me when I was available. And now, every Tuesday at 7 o'clock, I shall be stuck with the devil's daughter herself. Oh, what a cruel, cruel world."

"Can't you do something about it?" Padfoot asked.

I lay there silent for a moment, the cogs of my clever brain working slowly, thoughtfully. Was there a way out? According to the Marauders, there was always a way out, and this was no exception, right?

"Of course!" I exclaimed after a few silent minutes. "I bet she'd instantly give up her job if I acted extremely pompous and arrogant."

"You _are_ arrogant," Moony said bluntly, "on the surface, that is," he added after seeing my icy stare. Nice save, Moony.

"Yes, but if I'm like, _really, really_ arrogant and so loud and rude and obnoxious, she'll _hate_ me, and she'll go mad! It's brilliant!"

_

* * *

__Tuesday, Library, 7:15_

So much for a brilliant plan. I have never met someone as patient, yet as cold-hearted, as Lily Evans. I'm starting to wonder whether she is actually a human being or not. For fifteen minutes, I have attempted to drive her crazy. I've blown spit balls, burped, snorted, farted, laughed like a hyena, crumpled papers, etc, etc. I've done absolutely nothing that has to do with Charms, and yet, she has acted like I was a perfect gentleman.

"Clearly, Potter, you are trying to make me angry and thus trying to make me give up this opportunity, but let me tell you, it will take a miracle for that to happen. I do hate you, but I am determined to make you a better Charms student, not as good as I am, but good enough to pass the course."

"Can you touch your tongue to your nose?" I asked, sticking my tongue upwards. I had heard what she'd said, most definitely I had, but it didn't hurt to try again.

"Potter, do you know the meaning of perseverance? I am not going to give up this tutoring position and there is no way you can make me. Prefects are highly esteemed here at Hogwarts, and tutoring prefects? Even _more_ so. I am not a failure and I refuse to be one, for I _will_ continue to tutor you whether you like it or not. I was chosen for this position, and I am not one to back down from a task, no matter how grueling it may appear to be. So, you better stop acting like a baby and straighten up because doing such things as you are now will only tire you. Do you understand me?"

Evan's piercing green eyes looked at mine, as if staring into my soul, and sent an unwanted chill down my spine. Was there no choice but to listen to her and be tutored by her?

"Potter," she sighed, "are you scared of me? It's okay for a coward like you to be afraid of the 'Ice Queen', Potter. But don't let fear prevent you from getting the grades you need."

I gasped aloud at her horrendously false accusation. Scandalous! James Harold Potter was _not_, I repeat, _NOT_ a coward. My breath caught in my chest as I gulped down several poisonous words. I couldn't believe it. She called me a coward, that BITCH! I wasn't determined to let her win, not at all.

"So what page were we on again?" I asked, picking up my quill and jotting down notes from the Charms textbook.

And so, I spent the next half-hour with Lily Evans. I'll never admit this to anyone, but although she had the personality of a snake, she was a great tutor. She wasn't lying when she said she could work miracles on me in one tutoring session.

If only her personality was as great as her tutoring…

* * *

AN: I know the whole tutoring thingy is clichéd, but this will not be the focal point of the story, but rather a…boost, if you will. It will only be a temporary. Now, I haven't decided how long 'temporary' is, but this will not go on for the whole story…unless you want me to. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I've been so busy with school work and dance class that I haven't had time. Please, please, please, review! 


	6. Chapter 6: Lesson in Fun 1

**Chapter 6: Lesson in Fun-Part 1**

_August 20, 1984_

_Dear Lily,_

_Firstly, I would like to wish you a Happy 15__th__ Birthday. I wish you much joy and happiness on this special occasion. You deserve every ounce of goodness that comes your way because you've worked hard for it. I hope you like the gift that I've bought you. Secondly, I congratulate you for having been made a prefect. It must be an honor, and I am so very proud of you for securing that position._

_Now, we must move on to more serious matters. As I am writing this letter, I am downstairs in the basement so that your mother does not find me and take this letter away from me. For nine years, Lily, I have been a terrible father to you. I have gone to clubs, drank endless amounts of alcohol, and slept with a countless number of women. But today, I am sober. I have been sober for the whole day, and I will continue to be sober. Why? It is because I see what you and Petunia are becoming. No, I see what you are becoming. It is too late for Petunia, for she has already become. Since the day she'd left for college, I knew I'd lost her. I wish that I could have reached her a long time ago, and I wish I could have talked to you sooner. I had been hiding myself away for too long. But now, you are my only hope, and I pray that you will listen to me because I am sure that it is not too late, Lily. It is not too late._

_You must think that your mother is a wonderful woman, a saint, an angel. She certainly seems to be. She is beautiful, talented, kind, caring, and loving. To you, she is the quintessence of perfection. She _is_ perfection. But perfection is not real, Lily, and it can't ever be. Perfection is fake, and so is your mother. I am not saying that she is a cruel monster, but she is tyrannical, and I won't doubt that she can send Hitler running to his mother. No matter what way you look at it, she has tried to mold you. From the day of your birth, she has tried to make you perfect, tried to make you like her. She has never heard of the words mistake or flaw. They are not in her dictionary, and apparently, they are not in yours, either. I can see you becoming her, Lily. You hold your head up high and act as if you are on top of the world. You act as if everybody is beneath you, just like your mother does. You believe you are flawless, but that is exactly it. That sick belief that your mother has drilled into your head will be your downfall, Lily._

_I cannot tell you the amount of times I have tried to tell your mother, before our marriage, after our marriage, and even before we had kids, to change, to become a better person. I don't know what started this, but it seems to have run in the family for generations, and I want you to stop this, Lily. It scares me to think that my younger daughter will become an exact replica of the woman I've come to loathe, an exact imitation of the daughter that I was unable to help._

_Now that you are in school and Petunia is in college and I am at home, it has become unbearable to live with your mother. Day after day, her words, her actions, her fakeness. It all disgusts me to the point of insanity, and I have, often, tried to commit suicide. But every time that I try, I can see your face in my head, and I stop. You may not think so, Lily, but I need you. I cannot go back to my old self again, nor can I kill myself. The only way I can become sane again is by you and your choice._

_I am so sorry for not being there for you. I cannot take back what I've done, nor can I offer any plausible excuse for my actions. I should have been a better father, but I was not, and I can't tell you how ashamed I am of my actions, how sorry I am. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me, and even if you don't, I hope you can heed what I am telling you._

_Lily, you are a beautiful young lady, and there is a world full of creativity, imagination, and possibilities out there for you. It's alright to cry, to feel pain, to fall down, to make mistakes. Because it only makes you stronger. It's alright to be crazy, to laugh until you cry, and to be wild. There is no other Lily Evans in the world because there is no one like you. You are unique and individual and no one can take that away from you. You are you, and no one can change that. Please, Lily, find yourself again. Find your heart again._

_Love, Dad_

A little more than a month has passed since my birthday, but that is insignificant compared to what I've just read. I read the letter over one more time, and then another, and another. I've read the letter five times and it still says the same thing. I couldn't breathe or think or feel. My body was frozen as I lay on my bed, the letter clutched in one hand. I took deep breaths, and counted backwards from ten. Slowly, with trembling hands, I picked up the dark blue, velvet box and opened it slowly, gasping at the shimmer of the jewels. A beautiful silver heart, engraved with a fancy 'L', which was adorned with small, sparkling emeralds. Gently, I opened up the heart, but it was empty. It was up to me to put a picture in there, and the first two people that came to mind were my mother and my sister.

The letter was still in my hands, black-inked words on top of crinkled, whitish-yellow parchment paper. I suddenly found myself wishing that I hadn't cleaned and rearranged my suitcase. Because if I hadn't, I would have never found that letter hiding inside the suitcase, tucked away in a small side pocket. I picked it apart, analyzing each sentence, each word, but I could not find the truth in it. To me, they were just words, nothing more and nothing less. But, the effect of them was astonishing, and each time I read them, I could feel my heart beat faster. It was like a cold wave had washed over me.

How could my father, that man who has been a stranger to us for nine years, suddenly change like that? And why did he choose to tell me this now? Why now? Despite his explanations of my mother, I couldn't believe any of it. I wouldn't! My mom had taken care of me, had nursed me. Without her, I'd be nothing, nothing at all. How could I believe something so wretched as what my father had said about his wife? It was simply impossible to think that she was fake or that she was trying to mold us. She was as every bit as real as Hogwarts, as magic. How could it be alright to cry or to make mistakes? How in the world could that make you stronger? It was absolutely absurd.

And suddenly, I ripped up the letter. The sound of the shredding was like music to my ears, and when I was done shredding, I took my wand, and I burned the letter. I watched it disintegrate to ashes with a happy gleam in my eyes.

My dad was right. I was Lily Evans, and there was no other person like me. But, I didn't need to find myself, and I didn't need to find my heart. I knew exactly who I was and where I was heading, and it was absolutely pathetic of him to try to tell me otherwise.

* * *

The cold metal of the necklace felt strange against my neck, but I liked it. Now, my sister and my mother would always be with me. As I headed to the library for my tutoring session with Potter, I stopped to open up the locket and admire the pictures of the two most important women in my world. 

Potter stumbled in just as I seated myself. "Wow," he gasped as he sat down across from me. His eyes lingered on the locket. Unconsciously, I touched it and smiled. I had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that my dad did have good taste in jewelry. "Where'd you get that, Evans? That must have cost a fortune!"

"That," I said, opening up his Charms textbook, "is unimportant now. We must continue our lesson."

"Must we?" he said, groaning. "Five tutoring sessions and no fun in any of them! Do you even know the meaning of fun? Honestly, Evans, I'm giving up my Tuesdays, and I may be learning a great deal, but can't you bring some fun into it, a little bit of variety? Must everything be so routine? It's killing me!"

"Fun?" I said, trying out the word on my lips. Immediately, my mind wandered to the letter that I had read this morning. _It's alright to be crazy, to laugh until you cry, and to be wild_. Was that what fun was? Fun seemed so mediocre to me, so nonsensical and meaningless. I could not understand how you could mix work with fun. How could I even be thinking of the letter at this moment? "No, Potter, I cannot. You are wasting our time here, so can we continue on with this lesson?"

Potter heaved a big, dramatic sigh before nodding his head. "If we must, Your Majesty," he murmured, before mumbling something under his breath.

_You hold your head up high and act as if you are on top of the world._ I cringed, and pushed something intangible away, earning a bewildered stare from Potter. "Okay, let's start with the enlargement spell, and then we will go on to the shrinking spell."

We spent the next half-hour going over the two spells, and I was slightly amazed at the progress that Potter had made in the last five weeks. He was steadily improving, and I was extremely proud of myself at the work that I'd done.

"Very good, Potter. Now, I think we should review—"

"Oh God, don't! No reviewing, nuh-huh. I vote we do something fun. How about that?"

Again with that stupid three letter word. I swear, that word should be banned from the dictionary. "I vote that we should review, and since my vote counts more than yours, that is exactly what we're going to do."

My firm response was answered in silence as Potter's fingers drummed rhythmically on the table. "You're always teaching me something, Evans. Let me teach you something in return. Okay?"

I snorted in disbelief. "Take a shot at it. Go ahead and test me on any subject," I said confidently.

Potter rolled his eyes. "You think you're _so_ perfect, huh?"

_You believe you are flawless, but that is exactly it. That sick belief that your mother has drilled into your head will be your downfall, Lily._

"Fun and friends," he said simply, smiling in triumph. "Since I tried and failed to explain to you what friendship is last time, this time, you and I are going to have a hands-on, interactive experience."

For a moment, I sat there looking at him, annoyed and bewildered at the same time. "You can't test me on that!" I exclaimed.

A gleeful laugh escaped his lips. "Oh, yes I can!" he whispered excitedly. Jumping out of his chair, he grabbed my hand and raced down the corridors.

"Potter!" I hissed, attempting to extricate my hand from his warm and big one. Again, I shuddered, but this time for a different reason. This time, because of that tingle that ran down my spine at the feeling of his hand. _Madness_, I thought. "Potter, let go of my hand," I commanded, running to keep up with him.

"Okay, we're here," he breathed, finally letting go of my hand. And yet, strangely, there was a tiny, microscopic part of me that yearned for it. Angrily, I squashed it.

"The Gryffindor common room?" I asked in between breaths.

"The one and only," he grinned. "Come on." He told the Fat Lady the password, Golden Ring, and opened the door.

I followed him inside and stumbled upon Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew.

"Prongs! You got out of tutoring early!" Black exclaimed gleefully. "But, what's _she_ doing here?" I earned a glare from Mr. Idiot, and retorted with my own evil stare.

"My dear friends, be silent as I tell you three of this tragic dilemma," Potter said dramatically. "Lily Evans, here, has no friends, as you all are aware of. But what is even worse is that she _chooses_ to have no friends, and what is even more worse is that she does not know the meaning of fun! So, it is with diligence, cooperation, and perseverance that I present to you today's lesson in fun and friends. And I ask you three to lead me in this powerful learning session."

I was rarely ever put into awkward situations, but at that moment, it felt as if I'd been picked up right out of my house and dropped into the middle of a jungle. I didn't belong there. The animals did not want me. And the way that these boys were staring at me, I didn't think they wanted to participate.

"Let me get this straight," Lupin said. "You are willing to teach Evans, who you say you hate, a lesson…on friendship and fun?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up," Potter answered, nodding his head.

"Prongs, why, man? Why? Why would you want to?" Black asked, bewildered and utterly confused.

"Well…Evans has been helping me, so I think I should return the favor. I've gotten to know her a bit, and realized that she is a boring, sad, and pathetic creature who's mind and heart are cold and terribly morphed. To be honest, I pity Evans here. Yes, I do, indeed. She's never hurt any of us or anyone for that matter, and who knows, we might just discover a side of Evans that she's been hiding?"

"You pity her?" Pettigrew asked, just as astonished as Black. "But, why?"

"Ah, Wormtail, I don't feel much like going into the details. All you need to know is we are the Marauders, and right now, we are being presented with a challenge, and the Marauders never back down from a challenge."

Lupin, always the intuitive and perceptive one, hummed in silence. "I guess we could give this try. What's the worst that could happen? Lily might gain some friends."

I snorted, folding my arms across my chest. Like that would ever happen.

"Yeah, 'cause Evans looks really eager," Black replied sarcastically. "But, like Moony said, what's the worst that could happen, right? I'm always up for a night of fun, even if it is with Evans."

"Alright then!" Potter exclaimed enthusiastically. "Let's get this lesson started."

"Woah, hold it!" I ordered, holding my arms up. "I think you're forgetting one small detail, like the fact that I never agreed to this."

Like a light switch, Sirius Black instantly turned on his charm, smiling at me seductively as he sidled over to me. "But you will," he whispered huskily, "won't you?"

Apparently, Black did not have the slightest clue that I was immune to his so called "charm." Still, I could not help but feel my cheeks fill up oh so slightly with a red hue. Rolling my eyes, I examined my fingernails before calmly replying, "Yeah, sure, whatever. Like Lupin said, what's the worst that could happen?"

"Ah, Evans, I knew you weren't completely a stick in the mud!" Potter cheered. "Okay, first thing's first, get the Marauder's map and the Invisibility cloak."

My eyes snapped. "The what and the what?!" The wheels started turning, and I realized after a moment that these boys were planning on going out, to gosh knows where, secretly, possibly staying after curfew. "No, whatever the lesson is, it is going to be right here within the walls of this castle, and after 11 p.m., within the walls of this room. I _am_ a prefect, and I should be setting an example."

"Lily, how can we teach you a lesson if you are going to be so resistant," Lupin spoke calmly, tranquilly. "Trust us. We've done this countless times before. I assure you, nothing bad will happen. And besides, _I'm_ a prefect, too, in case you've forgotten."

Trust? The only people I'd ever trusted were my mom and my sister. And _they_ expected _me_ to _trust_ them? The world was going haywire.

"No," I said, shaking my head adamantly. "Pettigrew, where are we going?"

It was then that I realized that although he was more stupid than his friends, he wasn't _that _stupid. "We're going to Ho—ah," he covered up quickly under the intimidating glare of his friends. "It wouldn't be much fun if we told you, Evans," he finished smartly.

"Either you teach the lesson in here, or—"

"My gosh, you _idiot_!" Black yelled. "Shut up! I swear, you're like a…I don't even know what you're like, but whatever it is, it's _not_ good. Stop being so wary and tense. Relax! I swear, guys, she's been dropped down from some other planet. I bet even the teachers have more fun than you do!"

There was that word again. Fun. If it were a person, I'd probably take a butcher's knife and ruthlessly hack it to pieces.

"Fine! Go ahead and show me what 'fun' and 'friendship' is all about," I retorted, glaring at him with as much hate as I could muster. "Go ahead and try. But when you fail, I'll be laughing my head off. _That's_ the only reason I'm going." I prayed, silently, that I would not lose my privileges as prefect.

"And when we _succeed_, we'll be laughing _our_ heads off," Potter replied.

"Well then," Lupin said finally. "Let us begin!"

* * *

AN: As much as I try, the 'Love, Dad' somehow can't be at the right, and always ends up left. So, I'm sorry. And, as always, your reviews make my day. 


	7. Chapter 7: Lesson in Fun 2

Chapter 7: Lesson in Fun-Part 2

**Chapter 7: Lesson in Fun-Part 2**

_Previously:_

"_Fine! Go ahead and show me what 'fun' and 'friendship' is all about," I retorted, glaring at him with as much hate as I could muster. "Go ahead and try. But when you fail, I'll be laughing my head off. That's the only reason I'm going." I prayed, silently, that I would not lose my privileges as prefect._

"_And when we succeed, we'll be laughing our heads off," Potter replied._

"_Well then," Lupin said finally. "Let us begin!"_

* * *

And so, we trekked underneath the fantastic invisibility cloak, aided by the ingenious, well-thought-out Marauder's map, though I'd never admit it to their faces. It was incredible to think that underneath this soft, velvety material, I could see the world, but the world could not see me. We flowed through the corridors, passed the chattering faces of the students and the teachers. And then, I felt very stuffy and hot inside, and it was terribly annoying how we all kept bumping into each other. So, under the safety of a clear corridor, I stepped out of the cloak and breathed in the fresh air. I told the boys they'd best come out from under there, as well, but Potter simply replied that it was cooler this way.

"Psst! Evans," the air hissed beside me.

"What is it," I whispered, barely moving my lips, still looking straight ahead.

"Take a left."

It was as I was turning the corridor that I bumped into Lucius Malfoy and his ever faithful sidekick, Severus Snape.

"Going somewhere, mudblood?" Malfoy spat.

I rolled my eyes and felt the air, right where the invisibility cloak was, tense up beside me, as if a being would jump out, poised, ready to fight. I didn't have time for this. I had to win this…challenge, I guess you could say. I had to prove to the Marauders that 'fun' was meaningless. And I had to do it _now_.

"Malfoy, go bother someone who'd want to waste their precious time talking to a pathetic creature like you." I moved past him swiftly, over the stuck-out leg of Snape, who was attempting to trip me…but failing.

"Pathetic creature, huh?" I heard him say behind me. "I'm not the one who's blood is soiled, Evans."

"Don't let him get to you, Evans," Black said in a hushed voice from under the cloak. "He's an idiot…they all are."

It was funny, or maybe amazing, how even though the Marauders disliked me or hated me or loathed me, they'd come to my defense when it came to things like that…me being a muggleborn. Then again, they'd do it for any other muggleborn, but they didn't hate those muggleborns, not like they hated me at least. Interesting…

"Who's getting to who?" I raised my eyebrow. Still, I could feel my fists clench at the thought of someone saying my blood was soiled. Malfoy's blood was red. Snape's blood was red. My blood was red. "Let's just get this 'fun' over with."

* * *

We found ourselves at Hogsmeade, that glorious little wizarding village. Crouching behind a tree, the Marauders threw off the cloak, stuffed it into a bag and smiled beamingly at me, as if they wanted me to be awe-struck by this "adventurous" location.

"Welcome to Hogsmeade!" Black said, throwing his arms out and stepping onto the pavement. Few wizards and witches milled about in their cloaks, meeting friends, buying, eating, drinking…the regular things. And this was the Marauders' idea of fun?

"Oh, it's absolutely _astounding_," I gasped in sheer sarcasm, looking around with fake enthusiasm. "I just can't believe you took me to _Hogsmeade._ How wonderful!"

"Evans, I bet you've never even gone to half the shops here," Potter said. "Am I right or am I right?"

My mouth opened and closed like a gaping goldfish. "I've, well…I mean…" For the second time, Potter had struck me dumb. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze him to death.

"I'm right," he muttered pompously. "Well, then, be prepared to be blown away!"

"Let's get started," Pettigrew said.

The first shop that we (or at least the Marauders) rushed to was Honeydukes, land of delicious chocolate. From every shelf and every corner of the shop, all sorts of decadent candies stared at you, drew you to them like a magnet. The color and vivaciousness of the customers and the salespeople and the environment were astounding…not that it mattered because I'd already been here a couple of times before.

"Okay, guys and girl, listen up, "Lupin announced in an authoritative tone. "We must get through all the shops by 7:30 because sunset is at 7:41. Which gives us," Remus paused to look at his watch, "a little more than two hours."

"Woah, wait a minute," I said. "That's the big finale of this whole escapade. You want to show me the stinking sunset? You brought me to Hogsmeade to show me around shops that I've already been to…and then make me watch the sun go down? That's such a waste of time!"

Black gasped in shock. "Girl, you did not just…I know you didn't just…Oh my God. Evans, this isn't just some run-of-the-mill Hogsmeade trip. It is _so much more_. We are going to take you to places in Hogsmeade that you've never been to."

"And for the record," Pettigrew added, "it isn't just some stinking sunset."

"Here, here!" Potter nodded.

"Okay, we're wasting valuable time, people," Lupin scolded.

"Follow us," Potter said, leading the way around a shop that I already knew.

I rolled my eyes as I trailed along behind the Marauders. Lupin acted the part of the enthusiastic tour guide, with Black and Potter making needless comments often and Pettigrew feigning shock and amazement, tapping my shoulder and trying to make me awe-struck. I had to admit that they way they were going about this was rather clever and interesting…somewhat.

"Evans, have you ever tried Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans?" Lupin asked.

I shuddered at the thought. "Ugh, no, just thinking about accidentally picking an awful flavor makes want to throw up."

"Well today is your lucky day, Miss Evans," Black shouted into my face, a wide grin stretched across from ear to ear. "For free, you get to sample three different flavors of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans!"

As if on cue, Pettigrew returned from a counter and held out his hand, where three different beans lay in his palm. Three different beans with the potential of having three disgustingly nasty flavors.

"You've got to be kidding me. There is no way in hell I'm trying one of those things. Who says you haven't picked out the flavors."

"I haven't," Pettigrew said, looking me straight in the eye as if daring me to doubt him. "We're rather friendly with the shop owner, so he gave me three for free. Their as random as you can get."

Silence ensued for what seemed like five minutes as I looked from each of the boys' faces to each of the beans to the boys to the beans to the boys to the beans.

"Well…" Potter prompted picking one up between his thumb and forefinger and bringing it up close to my face. "Doesn't it look tempting?

The jelly bean was a swirly mixture of some bright pink and deep, blood red. It looked good, but there was no telling what flavor would greet my mouth.

"Or are you too chicken to try one simple piece of candy?"

At the word 'chicken,' my mouth dropped open instantaneously as my brain caught on fire. I, Lily Evans, was _not_, I repeat _not_, a chicken. To think that they had the guts to call me that was absolutely horrific.

"Give me the stupid bean," I said, grabbing it from Potter's fingers and shoving it into my mouth. I chomped on it, then chewed more slowly, thoughtfully. Hmm…sweet, rich, creamy…strawberry cheesecake. "Wow, that was really good," I said after swallowing.

"Next flavor," Lupin announced, holding it out for me.

This bean was brown, which meant one of three things. It was either dirt or chocolate or dung. I took it into my hand and stared it closely, then sniffed it, but there was no scent. The color was deep, rich, and dark, which made me automatically thing of chocolate, but assuming, especially with every flavored beans, was not a wise choice. Still, I refused to be called a chicken again, so, holding my breath and pinching my noise, I popped the bean into my mouth and brought my teeth down into it, gradually. My eyes widened in disgust as I realized what I was tasting. Dirt. Terribly disgusting, awful-tasting dirt. I gulped the rest of it down and cringed in horror.

"Oh, gross!" I squealed attempting to get the flavor out of my mouth. Being a well-mannered lady, I did not want to barbarically unwrap the chocolate that surrounded me and shove it into my mouth. So, I did the only thing I could do. I took the last remaining jelly bean, a mixture of orange, yellow, and red, and shoved into my mouth, chewing hard.

Uh oh. The consequence of my hasty decision hit me like a battering ram as my cheeks flushed and eyes watered. My face glistened with sweat. Had I known that my tongue would be on fire from the taste of hot chili peppers, I would have thought of another way of getting rid of the taste of dirt.

"I'm assuming it doesn't taste too good," Black said, smirking at me.

Angrily, I spit out the remains of the wretched jelly bean into his face and ran to the store-owner, who was standing behind the counter.

"Help, mouth, hot, hot, hot," I breathed, unable to form words. "Egh, so _**hot!**_"

"Oh dear," he said sympathetically in an elderly, grandfather-like tone. "You ate the chili-flavored bean, didn't you? Well, I have just the thing." He disappeared behind the counter for a moment and then popped right back up with a small morsel of chocolate.

"This will make the chili-pepper flavor go away," he said, placing the chocolate square into my hand. Without a thought, I shoved it into my mouth, savoring the sweet, delicious flavor. Heaven.

"Thank you so much," I said after swallowing the last bit.

"A pleasure, my dear," he replied, smiling at me.

"Oy, there are people in line. Come on, lady, move it!"

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, I was just Potter!" I exclaimed when I turned around.

"That's my name, don't wear it out. So, did the nice man help you?"

"Yes, yes, he did, and I'm never ever trying another jelly bean ever."

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Your loss. Anyway, me and the guys are buying a bunch of stuff and you are going to sample all of it."

I groaned in despair, but surprisingly, I did not object to it. I guess that after eating two terribly flavored jelly beans, I was prepared for the worst…at least to some extent.

"Bring it on, Potter," I smirked, turning away from him.

"Evans, over here," Black called out, waving his hand from behind a shelf. Nodding, I made my way over, hoping for the best.

"Ta da!" He said, beaming as he showed this glorious fountain of chocolate, all kinds of chocolate. The biggest chocolate fountain I'd ever seen. White chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, strawberry chocolate, mint chocolate, peanut butter chocolate, caramel chocolate, all kinds of flavors of chocolate, all pouring in individual sections from the beautiful stone fountain.

"Oh wow," I said, my eyes gleaming from the breathtaking beauty of it.

"Try it!" Lupin said, pointing at the array of pretzels, strawberries, and marshmallows used to dip into the chocolate.

_Finally_, I thought to myself_. Something I'll actually like. _I made to pick up a pretzel, but Black beat me to it. He grabbed the salty stick, pushed it through a big, fluffy marshmallow and handed it to me.

"It's a marshmallow pretzel stick," he said, grinning like a child.

"Clever," I said, a small smile playing at my lips. I rolled the 'marshmallow pretzel stick' through the silky curtain until it was fully coated in milk chocolate, and brought it to my mouth. But before I could even part my lips, Black whisked it away from me. "Black! What the –"

"Milk chocolate?" He said accusingly, stuffing the thing in his mouth. "Pfft, _boring_." He assembled another marshmallow pretzel stick, this time, with five mini marshmallows, then rolled it through every flavor of chocolate. "Now that's the way to do it."

Rolling my eyes, I munched on the treat. Heaven's food. Yum!

"How do you like the chocolate-covered marshmallow pretzel stick?" Black asked.

"Great!" I replied.

"Awesome. Now, for the grand finale in Honeydukes. James, tell her what she has to do."

"My dear Evans, it is very simple. All you are required to do is to stick your head in the fountain and lick the chocolate, like this." Potter took his glasses off and bent his down, opening his mouth as neared the chocolate fountain. He drank up the brown liquid, not giving a damn that it was pouring down his chin. "See? Nice and easy," he smiled, lifting his head back up.

Disgusted, I shook my head. "I refuse to do that."

"Well, we refuse to let you refuse to do that," Pettigrew said, crossing his arms haughtily and sticking out his tongue.

"What? Afraid of getting messy, Evans?" Potter smirked while wiping his face with a wet napkin he'd conjured.

"I am not afraid! I just think it is highly unsanitary."

"Evans, it's only chocolate. There is nothing unsanitary about it," Lupin explained.

For a few moments, all was silent as they stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to do what they'd asked. Eating a dirt-flavored bean and a chili-flavored bean was one thing, but lapping up chocolate from a fountain with just your mouth was something else. Something totally different in my eyes.

"Do it, do it, do it, do it…" Black and Potter chanted, never ceasing.

Finally giving in to the persistent hooligans, I took all my hair in one hand and let the other hand fall to the side as I slowly bent over, closing my eyes. The scent of chocolate flowed up my nostrils, making me go dizzy with its overwhelming power. Shaking my head, I leaned in further, my lips barely grazing the liquid when I felt something push me from behind. Thoroughly annoyed, I lifted my face, which was _completely_ covered in chocolate, out of the fountain.

"I'm sorry, Evans, I couldn't resist," Lupin said, trying to control his laughter. "But here you go," he said, handing me a wet towel.

"I expected better of you," I growled, snatching the towel from his hand and rubbing it all over my face.

"Once a Marauder, always a Marauder," he recited.

"Immature idiots," I muttered to myself. "The nerve!"

It took me a good five minutes to get all the chocolate off my face and by that time, the pink towel had taken on a completely new color.

"Well, then, now that you're done cleaning up," Black started, "let's get a move on."

"Finally!" I said in relief. "So, where to next?" I asked, once we were all outside.

"Three Broomsticks," Potter announced before leading the way.

"You know, this so-called 'lesson in fun' your teaching me isn't so fun, you know?"

"Are you telling us you did not have a grand time at Honeydukes?" Black put a hand to his heart in mock-astonishment. "Trying the jelly beans and the delicious chocolate, not to mention we have plenty more candy for you to try."

"Yeah, I had a grand time," I said dryly. "So utterly grand. Potter, what the hell are you doing?"

"Shh, I'm concentrating," he said.

He was hopping and skipping and jumping. That much was clear. And with every contact his ragged black shoe made with the ground, a crunch could be heard. The crunch of dry autumn leaves. Soon, Black joined him and all four were playing the same game…or performing the same dance. I stared at them in wonder, and then took a few steps away, turning to the side to prevent any onlookers from making the connection that I was with them.

"Come on, Evans!" Potter grabbed my hand and pulled me next to him. "You can only jump on the leaves, so if any part of your foot touches the pavement, you're out."

"I'd rather not," I said, wrenching my hand from his cold grasp. "Looks rather foolish."

"I'd rather be a fool who has fun than a stick in the mud," he said. "Come on! What have you got to lose? You already ate two nastily-flavored jelly beans, drank up chocolate from the fountain, and had your face covered in chocolate."

"That's different," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What's diff—hey, guys, woah, wait up!" Potter called out to Lupin, Black, and Pettigrew, who were already far head of him. "We can't leave Evans out of the fun! We need to start over."

"That sucks," Lupin said, jogging back to us. "I was winning."

"Yeah, by an inch!" Black retorted.

"So Evans, you in?" Pettigrew asked.

"If I say no, will I be forced into it anyway?" I asked, hoping they'd say no.

"Yes, yes you will," Potter said.

I rocked on my feet before lifting my right leg and placing it carefully on a rather large-looking red leaf. Balancing with the utmost grace, I lifted my left foot and placed it on another dead leaf, this one yellow and smaller. _Piece of cake_, I thought to myself. Taking my time, I put one foot in front of the other, taking great care not to make contact with the pavement. Grins swept across the boys' faces as they joined me, jumping, leaping, hopping, flying, and skipping from leaf to leaf, already several paces ahead of me. Losing was not an option. I hastened my pace, eager to be the winner. And all the while, I could hear their laughter echoing, high-pitched and low-pitched and deep and throaty and rumbling, bouncing off the trees and surrounding me as we played their silly game.

"Ha!" Lupin said. "I win!" He grinned, punching the air as he stood in front of the Three Broomsticks.

Black had placed second and Potter had come third, followed by myself, and then Pettigrew. They all stood laughing, patting each other on the back, the other three only _slightly_ miffed that they hadn't placed first. It didn't matter to them. This was just a game. I, on the other hand, was very irked. I was graceful and fast-paced, and yet, I had not won. I had not even placed second. No, I was second to last.

"Come on, let's go inside," Lupin said kindly. "I'll pay."

"I think someone's a little angry," Black said in a singsong voice, nudging me in the ribs once we were all seated. "Come on, Evans, lighten up. It's just a game. It's not like there were any prizes. Just some good old, harmless fun."

"Why so blue? If you_ had _won, what would have happened? Nothing, nothing at all! You feel proud for just a few moments, and then it wears off."

Ignoring Potter, I put my chin in my hands and drummed my fingers against my skin. Black and Potter had a point. If I _had_ won, I would have felt ecstatic, but that's about it. I hadn't won, and surprisingly, I still had my dignity…still, it would have been nice to win.

"Butterbeers all around," Lupin called out to the waitress.

The butterbeer was warm and sweet against my throat, very comforting. I sipped lightly, relishing the feeling of the liquid against my tongue.

"Hey!" Potter said, putting his hand over my mug to prevent me from drinking anymore. "Let's have a chugging contest."

I raised my eyebrow and lifted his hand from my mug. "Isn't that something only barbaric people, such as yourselves, do?"

"Then you'll have no problem doing it, Evans," Black claimed.

I glared at him before eyeing Potter's butterbeer, which was almost equal with mine. A chance for victory. "You're on."

"Okay!" Lupin said. "On your mark, get set, go!"

The butterbeer gushed down as I worked my throat, gulping heavily, chest heaving. For a moment, my head felt dizzy. Then, I slammed my mug down and looked at Potter, who had finished just a few seconds after me.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "In your face. I win!" I smiled widely, victory dancing in my eyes as I folded my arms across my chest. Haughty.

"Yes, you win, indeed. Congrats, Evans," Potter smiled, holding his hand out in front of me. For a moment, I looked at him before tentatively grasping his hand, shaking it, then letting it go almost instantly.

"Funny," Black said. "First time I've seen James losing a chugging contest to a girl. You must have some strength, Evans."

My face fell just slightly as I looked from Black to Lupin to Pettigrew to Potter, who was staring at me with a knowing expression.

"Oh my God!" I gasped after a minute. "You _let_ me win! I can't believe you! Honestly, how could you do that?"

"You're _yelling_ at me because I let you win?" Potter asked, shocked. "What, aren't you happy that you were victorious?"

"I'd much rather win fair than win by cheating. I have morals, you know," I spat, narrowing my eyes at him. "If you knew you were going to win, then you should have, instead of slowing down."

"So, you admit that winning isn't everything? That this was just fun?"

"I…huh, I guess not, no," I said pensively. "Maybe winning isn't everything." After all, I still had my dignity.

"I'm glad you learned _one_ thing," he said. He beamed widely, satisfaction and happiness twinkling in his eyes. He was joyful that I'd learned something, not feeling proud that he won or that _he _taught me something. Just happy. For a second, just for a second, I could feel something invisible tug at my lips, trying to make me smile. Just for a second, then it disappeared.

"Well, then," Black said, breaking the silence, "we should get going. We still have two shops left, and we'll be spending a lot of time at the last one."

"Which two shops?" I asked.

"Quidditch and Zonko's."

I sighed deeply, but decided not to argue on the fact that I would have the least fun, if any, in those two shops. It was pointless, today, to get what I wanted, so I did not bother to try. Just a waste of energy.

Outside was chilly, autumn chilly. A cool breeze was blowing through the trees, making their branches dance some unseen dance, dancing to some unheard music. Shivering just a smidge, I wrapped my jacket more tightly around me. It was still light, yes, but the sun was going to set in a little more than a half-hour. Some small part of me longed to see it, though most of me didn't care.

"The wonderful world of Quidditch," Potter announced out of the blue. I looked up to find myself in a shop full of everything Quidditch: broomsticks, cleaning kits, snitches, quaffles, bludgers, bats, so on and so forth. Sun poured in from the windows, bathing everything in a sparkling, orangish-yellow light.

"A beauty, huh?" Potter said, his fingers trailing along the smooth, polished handle of a broomstick. _Comet 350_ gleamed in gold letters near the end of the handle. "Newest broomstick in the market. And the fastest, too. Absolutely fascinating."

I found myself touching the broom as well, somehow captivated by its royalty, the way it sat in front of the window by itself, away from the other broomsticks, too good for them. The best broomstick ever in history. Everyone wanted one, but only those with enough money could afford it. _I could afford it_, I thought. _But it's useless to me_. That thought made me frown a bit, how something so beautiful and pristine could be so pointless to me.

"Hey, come over here," Black called out.

Potter and I followed his voice and found the rest of the Marauders standing by a pyramid-like stack of wooden chests, some shaking, others standing still. Grinning, he looked over his shoulder and reached for one of the boxes. Time seemed to stop as he clicked open the chest. Rows and rows of snitches, sealed behind small golden doors, like birds in a cage, waiting to be set free. He was going to set them free.

"You can't do that!" I hissed to him. And yet, I did not take a step forward to stop him, nor did I take a step back. I stood there, unmoving, and said no more, just watched as he carefully opened one of the doors and took out the small golden ball with its small golden wings flapping helplessly.

"Poor thing wants to fly," he whispered. "What do you think? Should we let it go free?"

I could almost see the wheels in his brain turning, could almost see him lifting his fingers up one by one. "You shouldn't do it," I said again, disapproving, almost reaching out my hand to take it from him.

"What's that, Evans? We should? You heard the lady, guys," Potter said, "let it fly."

Black lifted up his fingers, and the instant he let it go, it zipped around, flying with great speed and agility. I stood there in silence, watching it fly, losing sight, then finding it again. Its wings beat fast, rhythmically, the same tempo as my beating heart. Again, it disappeared from my sight.

"Hey!" A voice shouted, old and aged. The owner of the shop walked briskly over to us. "Mr. Black! I should have known! Just what do you think you're doing, letting that snitch fly all over the place?"

"Aw, Mr. Penson, it longed to be free, that's all," Potter answered for Black. "But if it makes you happy, I'll go get it."

Potter's eyes darted back and forth, up and down, before spotting the snitch up near the ceiling, fluttering about near the rafters. He kept his trained eyes fixed on the ball, not letting it out of his sight for a second.

"Hey, someone give me a broomstick," he said, holding his hand out.

"Oh no, no, no, no. All of you, out, out! I'll get that thing myself," Mr. Penson said.

"Mr. Penson, sir, with all due respect, I don't think you'll be able to," Lupin said, as generous as ever. "You might hurt yourself, and I guarantee you, James will be able to get the snitch without breaking anything. You have my word for it."

Lupin had a way with words, and Mr. Penson found himself agreeing with him. Tentatively, he grabbed a broomstick, an old one, and placed it securely in Potter's hands. Still, without taking his eyes off the snitch, Potter swung his legs over the broom and kicked off. The broom sailed up, Potter controlling it with grace. Instantly, my eyes were attached, fascinated by the ease with which he sailed around the shop, chasing after the snitch with unwavering determination. It took only a couple of minutes before he was smooth-sailing back to the floor, his hand curved around that golden ball. Carefully, he placed the snitch back in its proper position and closed up the chest.

"I have to say, Potter, that was impressive," I said approvingly nodding my head.

"Oh, Evans complimented me! Shucks!" Potter replied, grinning toothily.

"Honestly," Mr. Penson muttered, "such behavior in front of a young lady. Preposterous! What is the world coming to today? I apologize, my dear."

"Oh no, it's perfectly alright, Mr. Penson," I said pleasantly.

"That's very well. Now you boys behave yourselves!" He demanded, looking at each of them sternly in their eyes.

"Yes, sir!" Pettigrew exclaimed, snapping to a salute. The others simply beamed like devilish little boys.

After ten minutes of roaming around the shop and hearing animated discussions about the top Quidditch teams and Quidditch players, we headed out of the store and on to Zonko's Joke Shop, something I was not looking forward to at all.

"The sun is going to set in just twenty minutes," I claimed looking at the sky, "and I think it would be best to—"

"_I _think it would be best, Evans, if you shut up and stop thinking too much," Potter said. "Zonko's is wonderful. You'll love it!"

"I highly doubt that," I mumbled to myself as we entered the shop. The crazy, whacky, insane, immature shop full of insanely laughing boys and girls who have insane enough minds to buy this insane stuff.

All around me were color, lights, and noises. A prankster's wonderland. Once those four boys set foot in the shop, they were no longer fifteen. They were little children with eager eyes and open minds, exploring a world of creativity, or in my eyes, a world of annoyance.

"Fanged Frisbees," Lupin said, fondly holding up a box. "These little suckers are amazing."

"Ah," I said, observing the regular-looking Frisbee, on the box, with its sharp, white fangs. It looked about to jump out and sink its pointed teeth into my neck. A vampire without a face or a body. Indeed amazing.

"Dungbombs are a classic! You can't ever go wrong with them," Potter exclaimed, holding up the box to show me.

"Dungbombs? Just the name sounds atrocious," I said, wrinkling my noise.

"Not as atrocious as the smell," he countered. "You can never have enough dungbombs, so I think I'm going to buy some."

"Hey guys, check this out!" Black said, coming up to us with a box in his hand. "Nose-Biting Teacups. Neat, eh? I think I'll try this little puppy out."

Without giving a second thought, the boys were rummaging through the aisles, snatching crazy-looking products off the shelves and spilling out their money to become owners of these toys.

"Hey, Evans, come over here!" Lupin said, dragging me to a crowd of children. He pushed his way through to the front where Pettigrew, Black, and Potter were also standing, their eyes hooked on a shop employee who was showing the latest item: a Headless Hat.

"Alright, ladies and gentleman, who wants to try it? Come now, don't be afraid, don't be afraid at all."

Someone, I bet it was Black or Potter, pushed me and all of a sudden, I was in the middle of the crowd, the center of attention. I should have been pleased, but in all actuality, I was embarrassed. I could feel my skin heating up red, and Lily Evans never _ever_ gets embarrassed.

"Great! Now, young lady, what's your name?" The employee, a young and handsome man of about twenty whose nametag spelled out Jake in capital letters, asked me.

"Lily Evans," I whispered to him, somewhat shyly.

"Come closer, people. This here Miss Lily Evans is going to put on this seemingly regular black top hat. As soon as it touches her hair, her head is going to disappear. Hence the name, headless hats." Without a pause, Jake placed the hat on my head.

I waited a second, then two and three, then ten. I didn't feel any different. Cautiously, I reached up a hand and felt for my head. I could still feel it, it and the hat. It was pretty solid to me. But there was no mistaking the widened eyes of the crowd members and their awed gasps.

"Woah, Evans, you're totally headless! Man, that is _awesome_!" Potter exclaimed, sending a wave of response throughout the whole crowd. Everyone nodded, clapping in sheer delight, while I just looked around. _What the hell do I look like?_

As if in answer to my thoughts, Jake produced a mirror and brought it to my face. I was, indeed, headless. "Oh my," I said, touching the mirror. "Oh wow." I was in complete awe and admiration of the product.

"Astounding, isn't it?" Jake gently lifted up the hat while I was still looking at the mirror. As soon as he took the hat off, my head appeared, this time, visible for all to see. _Incredible_, I thought to myself.

"I _need_ to get one of those," Black muttered, just as awestruck as I was. Seeing his amazed face, I immediately rearranged mine into one of uncaring and nonchalance. After all, what was so cool about a hat that made your head disappear? Nothing cool at all!

"You liked that, didn't you, Evans?" Lupin asked me knowingly. It was a rhetorical question, but I chose to prove him wrong.

"I didn't _like _it," I retorted. _At least I think I don't like it._ "I admit it was very cleverly thought out. But what's the use in it?"

"What's the use?" Potter repeated in astonishment, his arms already full of Zonko's products. "This product is pure genius! Who ever thought of it was genius! Imagine going down one of Hogwart's corridors and then bam! You see someone with no head. Think of how frightening that would be! You could totally scare people with this, it's crazy!" Somehow, his excitement was contagious and some microscopically tiny part of me wanted to put on that hat just one more time. _Preposterous!_

"Guys, the sun is going to set in just ten minutes," Pettigrew announced.

"Alright, troops, lets head out," Black commanded.

Pockets bulging with candies and toys, now miniaturized thanks to the Shrinking Spell, we headed out of Zonko's and out of Hogsmeade as well. I followed the rest of the Marauders as they led me to the sprawling lawns in front of Hogwarts, where there were few students doing homework or just lounging about here and there.

"Here's the spot," Lupin said, plopping down on the ground. We were on a small hill where there were absolutely no students, probably because the Whomping Willow was just yards away. Ignoring the tall, angry tree, I sat down next to the boys.

"Here, have a Fizzing Whizbee," Pettigrew said, holding out the soft, fluffy, light pink, circular-shaped candy. Mumbling a thank you, I took the product and took a bite of it. Immediately, a sensation of euphoric airiness filled me. I was lifting up into the air, as light as a butterfly. Looking down, I could see that my pretzel-shaped legs were just three inches off the ground. I took another bite and found myself lifted another inch. _Neat_.

"Hey, are you going to pull me down?" I asked them.

"Shh! We're watching the sunset. You're fine where you are, Evans!" Potter hissed, scolding me as if I was in the movie theater. Shrugging my shoulders, I looked straight ahead. The sun, this amazing orange sphere that gave off incredible heat, was sinking slowly, slowly, like a huge beach ball descending down into the depths of an enormous pool of purples and reds and pinks and oranges, blended together to create this incredible sunset. For five minutes, we all stared in wonder at this fantastic scene, spellbound by its sheer simplicity and natural beauty. From my position, one foot off the ground and slowly, very slowly sinking, I myself felt one with the sun, gradually moving towards the grass.

"Evans, did you have a fun time up there in the air?" Potter asked me once my ass was completely on the ground. His mouth was full of chocolate, but apparently, he didn't care.

"Tons of fun," I said truthfully. I grabbed at one of the bars, broke off a piece, and tossed it in my mouth, immediately comforted and relaxed by the rich, warm flavor. The Whomping Willow shook a little, causing me to jump. "The Shrieking Shack…I'm surprised you didn't take me there. I've never been there."

"Oh, we'll take you there one day, Evans. One day," Potter said, waving away the subject as if it were some annoying wasp. "Did you have fun at Hogsmeade?" He asked, quickly changing the topic.

"Eh, Hogsmeade was alright," I said, half-lying, for I knew in my gut that I'd never had a Hogsmeade trip like that ever. And some part of knew that I never would and that I hoped I would, too. Some microscopically tiny part of me, that is. A larger part of me was glad for this peace and joy, this relaxation and comfort. "Just one clarification."

"Clarify away," Black said.

"You planned this whole thing beforehand, right? The chocolate fountain, the chugging contest, the headless hats, the snitch. It was all completely thought out prior to the trip, wasn't it?"

The boys looked at each other, then at me, before breaking out in loud, chaotic laughter. They rolled around on the floor, their faces beet red, gasping for breath, laughing their heads off.

* * *

AN: Yes! I'm done! I apologize sincerely for the long pause, but I had major, _major_ writer's block. Please, _please_ review and feel free to make any suggestions on how this fanfic can be improved. I have a lot of hopes and ideas for this fanfic, so your reviews would be much appreciated!


	8. Author's Note 1

Author's Note: Hi

Author's Note: Hi! I must apologize for a mistake I made in Chapter 7. When I was researching Zonko's items on the internet, one website said that headless hats belonged to Zonko's and another website said the headless hats belonged to Fred and George. I'm pretty sure that the latter is correct, and if it indeed is, I apologize for the mistake. The item fit well with my story, which is why I used it. Again, sorry if that mistake upsets anyone.


	9. Chapter 8: I Broke The Dam and I Don

**Chapter 8: I Broke The Dam and I Don't Know How**

James' POV

My insides were aching and my brain was pounding and I felt as if I was sweating profusely. My mouth was dry and every time I attempted to swallow, I would get a coughing fit. I have no idea what I did to deserve such physical pain.

"Ugh, someone, please, turn down the sun!" I moaned, bringing the bed sheets over my face.

"Prongs, do you know what time it is?" The voice sounded strangely like Moony's but in my unstable condition, it was hard to tell.

"No, and I don't care, I feel—" I couldn't even complete my sentence because I was seized by a violent coughing fit.

"It's 10:00…p.m. Breakfast is still on the dresser beside you. Use your wand and you can make it warm and edible again."

"What's the breakfast?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Toast, pancakes, bacon, eggs, and orange juice. There's also a pitcher of syrup."

Slowly, I lifted my eyelids up and clutching both sides of my bed, I slowly propped myself up against the headboard. Weak. I had never felt so _weak_. Sirius was sprawled across his own bed, pale and sweaty. It looked like he was sick as well.

"Hungry," he moaned, putting a hand to his stomach. "Moony. Breakfast."

Moony rolled his eyes, but did not stray from his spot between our two beds. "What, now I have to tend to you two twerps?"

"I have never felt so sick in my life!" Padfoot complained.

"How come you aren't sick?" I asked Moony.

"I didn't spend nearly half the amount of time outside yesterday in the rain that you guys spent, nor did I drink_ nearly _as much firewhiskey as you guys."

"What's the day today?" I asked.

"Thursday," he replied nonchalantly.

"We've got classes today!" Padfoot exclaimed.

"Never mind that," Remus said, waving away the intangible subject, "I've told the professors you both are terribly sick and asked them to excuse you from classes today."

In that moment, I knew that _both_ Padfoot and I had never felt a deeper appreciation and respect for our friend than today.

"Aw, Moony, you are the _bestest_ of the best," I smiled up at him in thanks.

"Your welcome. And break's over so I've got to get to class. Make sure you guys eat up," he said while making his way out the door.

It was very quiet all of a sudden. I don't remember the last time I'd been sick, but I knew it was very boring, despite not having to go to class.

"This is fun," Padfoot whispered, taking a bite of his pancake."

Within half an hour, I had finished my breakfast and chatted with my surrogate brother about matters that were not of any importance. Now, he was deep in slumber and I didn't know what to do. I felt too sick to fall asleep, not to mention I wasn't tired very much. So, I read and then I did some work, read some more, worked some more. Two slow, agonizing hours went by. It was lunch time for the students. I was so _hungry_. But my attempt to conjure up food fell flat. My mind was drawing a complete blank in regards to remembering the spell. Where was the bell to call up Moony? Oh wait, there wasn't one.

"Food," I murmured. "Thirsty. Need something to _drink. _So _hungry_."

My stomach growled heavily, a blatant reminder of what my body was missing. Aggravated, I threw the covers off, pushed my glasses onto my face, and abruptly jumped out of bed, only to fall back again. Instant head rush.

"C'mon, James, you can do this. Not that hard. One step at a time."

It seemed to take me about five minutes to get out of bed, and another ten just to get out of the room, all the while holding any sturdy object that I could get my hands on.

"Finally," I breathed hoarsely as soon as I stepped out of the common room and into the hallway.

It took a while, what with all the stumbling and stopping, for me to get to the portrait of the fruit which transformed into the entrance as soon as I tickled the pear. I staggered inside and plopped onto a seat, leaning my head against the cool metal table.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" A familiar voice questioned.

Slowly, I lifted up my head to see a pale, heart-shaped face surrounding by a sea of rich, red hair.

"Evans?"

"God, you sound awful," she said disdainfully. "And you look it, too. Weakling."

Me? A weakling? I had half a mind to kick her, but had I risen, I probably would have fainted.

"And what would Master Potter like, sir? Ivy is always at your service," a small elf squeaked, dipping into such a low curtsy that her nose touched the floor.

"Something calm and soothing, Ivy, possibly green tea."

"Of course, sir," Ivy said, curtsying once again before she disappeared.

"Why are you here?" I asked Evans, lifting my head up from the table. Within seconds, Ivy brought me my green tea and I thanked her. As soon as my lips touched the warm, soothing liquid, I was virtually transported to a healthy, happy heaven.

"Not that I need to explain myself to you, but it's lunchtime," she answered, munching on a piece of garlic toast.

"Sneaking off to the kitchens, eh? We've taught you well," I smirked, breathing in the relaxing scent of my nutritious savior.

"Okay first of all, Pothead, I am not 'sneaking' off to the kitchens. I…" But words failed her. Indeed, she had come here secretly. A faded hue of red crept up into her cheeks, but it wasn't of embarrassment, just of frustration.

"Riight, okay. Don't worry Evans, it's not like I'm going to tell anyone. But, why'd you do it anyway when you know the kitchen is off limits?"

"Not that I have to explain myself to you, but I wanted to eat alone, not in the Great Hall with all those people chatting."

"Fair enough, fair enough," I nodded, sipping my tea. "So, how did you like your escapade at Hogsmeade two days ago? We never got a chance to talk about it.

Evans rolled her eyes and took a bite out of her chocolate éclair. "Eh, it was alright," she said.

I paused and looked at her. "Just alright?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "C'mon, Evans. We know you had fun. Just admit it and I won't hold it against you."

She simply shook her head, shrugged her shoulders, and continued eating. She didn't look up for sometime and I took those few minutes to observe her. With pale, freckled skin; piercing, emerald-eyes; a heart-shaped face; and glossy, red hair, I wouldn't deny that she had a beautiful face and the figure to match. If she were like any other girl, I wouldn't mind going out with her. She wasn't like them though. She had a very haughty demeanor and a cold heart, but there _had_ to be something beyond that, something hidden beyond the layers and layers and layers and layers and…well you get the point…of ice and arrogance. After all she was a _good_ tutor. And she also appeared to have enjoyed our trip to Hogsmeade! That, I knew, was a fact.

"Potter, I hope you know I am not the least bit flattered at having you stare at me. To put it bluntly, I think it's rude. Now please, look at something else."

I turned my eyes towards my tea and continued drinking it. Indeed, Lily Evans was an odd one. I had always thought her this cold, cold being who deserved to be in Slytherin. I had never heard her cry or laugh (except out of sarcasm or mirth). But when she began tutoring me, it seemed that something hidden within her sort of crawled out. For the most part, she was patient in teaching me, though there were times when she lost her cool. She didn't smother me with candies, hugs, and kisses, but she didn't make me feel degraded or stupid, either, at least not constantly. Of course she did call me stupid some times, but that didn't really hit me, and that's besides the point.

"I don't get you, Evans," I said abruptly, catching not only her, but myself, off guard. I guess, in my frustration, the words tumbled out. But instead of covering myself, I simply continued. "Why haven't you made me feel like an empty-headed idiot during tutoring? Because trust me, you seem like the person who would."

"I don't feel the need to degrade you, Potter," she replied smoothly. "Besides, if I had, you'd have said something right back and we'd end up in a big argument, and being in a fight with you is hardly worth my time _or _energy. My goal is not to make you feel inferior, it's to fill that _empty-headed_ brain of yours with useful knowledge, and I won't be side-tracked in my duties," she finished, raising her eyebrow and smirking at me. Smooth, Evans, very smooth.

"Perseverance is usually an admired quality in a woman, except when it gets annoying. Then it just makes a guy want to throttle the girl."

"Thanks for the compliment," she said dryly. "But I don't think I'm your type of woman."

I resisted the urge to laugh, laugh hysterically mind you. Did she really think that I had taken that sort of liking to her? That I had a crush on her or something? I take her on a trip through Hogsmeade with the other Marauders and she thinks that just because I want to show her some fun that I'm in love with her? Is she serious? Ah, such a bright young woman with a terrible lack of common sense.

"Strange as it seems, I'm not surprised by the fact that you think you're worshipped by the male population. But alas, my dear, simple-minded friend, it is not true."

Evans gasped in shock at what I said. Was she mocking me? Or was she really distressed by what I said? Maybe she was annoyed that I thought she thought she was a goddess.

"Oh no, Potter, whatever will I do? How can I go on knowing that the boys in the school don't love me? Surely, I shall die of heartbreak!" Sarcasm in its most potent form. "Ugh, Potter, I have the urge to beat you up right now, but I have more tact than that. If you think that _I_ think that the guys in this school are in love with me, _you_ are sadly mistaken. I know what people think of me, and I know their thoughts aren't kind ones. _You_ know what people think of me, and—"

"Yeah, yeah, and I know you don't want friends, and you think they're useless, and all that pathetic, _completely untrue_ crap." How could someone _not_ want friends? I mean, really? Would anyone not want to go through life without at least a single friend?

"Oh, and for the record, Potter, it was rude of me to not correct myself earlier, but I _do_ have friends."

I nearly had the wind knocked out of me. "Who?" I asked, eager to find out what saint would befriend this complicated, callous woman.

"My mom and my sister are my best friends and they are the only people I need to survive in this world," she said strongly, her nose in the air.

Oh. Of course she wouldn't have friends _outside_ her family. "Evans, at the end of the day, your mom is your mom and your sister is your sister, and it's bloody fantastic that you consider them your best friends and all, but—"

"Really Potter, didn't we have a similar conversation before? Why are you so interested in why I don't like friends? Why does it surprise you, huh?"

"Well, ever since you started tutoring me, we've been spending more and more time together. As much as I hate to admit this, and I told myself I _never_ would, but you're a pretty darn good tutor. It makes me wonder why you don't have the personality to match. I've often wondered whether your heart was made of ice. And I can't imagine what kind of childhood you've had or what kind of parents raised you to make you think that the world is beneath you and you don't need friends."

It was almost instantaneous. Before I knew it, I was on the ground and cradling my burning, pained cheek. Hovering over me was an enraged Evans, enraged like I'd never seen her before.

"How _dare _you, Potter. You have NO GODDAMN RIGHT to talk about my mom in that way. She is a wonderful parent and an even more miraculous person. My mentor and my guide and the reason that I am even _alive_. And you have the audacity to question how my mother raised me? Do you even realize who you're speaking of? You have the goddamn fucking nerve to talk like that about the woman who loved me and nurtured me and guided me? I swear, if you _ever_ talk about my mother in any tone other than respectful, I will break your limps apart!"

I was too shocked to speak. She'd never hit me. She'd never shouted at me like that. She had never lost control like that. Almost immediately, I got up, still holding my cheek. The girl had quite some energy in that hand of hers. But that wasn't my worry. Her face was bright red and she was shaking uncontrollably. I panicked, not knowing what to do.

"Oh God, Evans, snap out of it! Damn it, what the hell is wrong with you?" Not knowing what to do, I took a glass of water and doused her with it. Her breathing slowed and she gradually ceased her outrageous shaking fit.

Minutes passed by and she didn't do anything at all. She sat there on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. But what bothered me the most was the expression in her eyes, an expression that I'd never seen on her face before. Fear. Most dominantly were anger and shock, but I could see the fear. I didn't know why she looked so afraid, but in that moment, it didn't matter to me. She was no longer Lily Evans. She was a scared, vulnerable, angry teenage girl. She looked like she needed to be held, but did she really want me to? With the utmost care, I scooted closer and tentatively brought my arms to her. Before I'd even touched her, she leaped up and away from me, and that's when I saw the wetness on her cheeks. Tears. They looked so alien on her face that I doubted myself at first. But they could only mean that she'd been silently crying.

"Evans, I, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to insult your mom. I was only…" But I could not go on because there was no one to speak to. Evans had already left, and I was still here on the kitchen floor, wondering why my words had had such a horrible effect on her.

* * *

AN: I know…I know it's sad of me that after 6 months of not touching the story that all I could come up with was a measly 6-page chapter. But please, please review and know that I'm not giving up on this story no matter how long it takes to finish! (wow, that seemed dramatic, lol)


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